


Fantasies

by Isidar_Mithrim



Series: Hinny [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Compliant, Drabble, Dream Sex, Explicit Language, F/M, Flash Fic, Hogwarts, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 23:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isidar_Mithrim/pseuds/Isidar_Mithrim
Summary: {But unbidden into his mind came an image of that same deserted corridor with himself kissing Ginny instead… The monster in his chest purred… […] Harry gave a guilty start and wrenched his imagination away from a corridor in which no Ron intruded, in which he and Ginny were quite alone – Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince}{“There isn’t anyone I want to invite,” mumbled Harry, who was still trying not to think about Ginny any more than he could help, despite the fact that she kept cropping up in his dreams in ways that made him devoutly thankful that Ron could not perform Legilimency. – Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince}I suppose that says it all ;)





	Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Fantasie](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/525416) by Isidar Mithrim. 

> Ok, it’s the first smut fic I’m sharing here and it’s the silliest I’ve written, so I’m a bit embarrassed to post it but ok, let’s do it XD

Harry was walking through the castle after a particular wet Quidditch training, and Ginny couldn’t stop mocking him about the state of his hair – he could only imagine how hideous he looked, and he couldn’t help but be enthralled by Ginny’s infectious laugh. The idea that she was laughing at him was oddly endearing, and the monster in his belly purred content. Harry’d have gladly returned the teasing, but her hair was still perfectly tamed in her long plait. He wished Ginny wasn’t wearing heavy, drenched Quidditch robes – it would have been glorious to have a glimpse of her body under a wet t-shirt.

They’d just entered the usual shortcut behind the tapestry when Ginny suddenly clutched his hand, pulling him to a stop.

Harry turned, taken aback, and his heart stopped when he saw her mischievous smirk and her blazing gaze. Then Ginny lasciviously run her tongue on her lower lips, and Harry felt a warm, pleasant throbbing spreading in his groin.

His heart pumped faster and faster while she got close to him with maddening slow steps. She wasn’t smiling anymore, and her eyes where darker and heavy lidded, filled with lust, and before their bodies flushed together, Ginny laid her hands on his chest and shoved him back until he meet hard stone.

She run her fingers through his hair, standing on her tiptoes to finally close the unbearable distance between their mouths. 

Ginny’s lips were soft, moist, kissable and when her tongue darted out Harry groaned, wrapping her arms around her waist to pull her against him, letting her _feel _what she was doing to him, savouring her forms flushed against his chest, only a thin layer of wet clothes between their bodies.

When Ginny licked his lower lip he promptly opened his mouth and welcomed her greedy tongue, wet and strong and oh Merlin how good it’d feel upon his shaft.

Harry’s blood rushed south at the thought, his erection twisting, and when Ginny ground against him Harry moaned shamefully, lowering his hands on her butt cheeks to press her impossibly closer, rutting his hips against hers in desperate need for more friction.

She wrapped a leg on his hip and met his movements in earnest while kissing his jaw, licking his neck, sucking his skin and making Harry moan with aching need.

Then, she suddenly break away, and for a moment Harry dreaded he’d done something horribly wrong – at least until Ginny kneeled in front of him and looked right into his eyes, her gaze filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck” mumbled Harry, bewildered and fucking hot and bloody hell was she really doing it?

Blood pumped in his veins when Ginny opened his Quidditch’s trousers unveiling his tenting black pants, her gesture confident, practiced. She laid her hands on his clothed erection, rubbing it, and Harry babbled and trembled and how was he going to keep standing?

Then Ginny pulled his pants down without a warning, and his erection sprout out, hard, throbbing, yearning – she took him in her hand and he shut his eyes groaning deeply, the back of his head pressed against the wall.

He felt something wet on the tip of his cock and a jolt of aching pleasure rushed through him. He _had _to look down, and he almost lost his feet watching Ginny's tongue darting out again to caress his swollen head. It was like nothing he’d ever felt, it was heady and blissful and better than he could ever dream of and he wanted more, so much more.

And then Ginny’s mouth engulfed him, wet and warm and slick and oh he could feel her tongue running on his shaft, her cheeks hollowing around it while she sucked him off, her lips bobbing up and down – he could hear the filthy, intoxicating sound of her slurping.

He rested all his weight against the wall and run his hands in her spread hair, caressing her head, guiding her rhythm, gently pushing her closer and closer and Godric his whole shaft disappeared into her mouth, her lips brushing the black curly hair of his groin. Her hands fondled his balls and caressed the sensitive skin behind, her blazing gaze fixed in his, and he was close, so close, crying unintelligible moans and curses and Ginny, Ginny, Ginny – praying she was going to hold his cock in her mouth until the end, to let him come in her throat.

“Harry…”

It was so inebriating to hear Ginny call his name like that, pleadingly, urgently.

“Harry.”

Horror rushed through him and cut off his breath when he realised it was Ron voice to call him while Ginny’s mouth was still around him. Harry desperately tried to push her away, to warn her, but she kept bobbing her head, undeterred.

“Harry, wake up!”

Suddenly, he was laying under his tangled blanket, drenched in sweat and with a pulsing warm between his legs.

The moonlight seeped in through the opening of the canopy where Ron’s head snuck in, but thankfully the rest of the four-poster bed was too dark for Ron to notice Harry’s state.

“Are you all right? You were squirming like crazy.”

“Eh?” was everything Harry managed to say, while his brain kept showing him the image of Ginny kneeling in front of him, doing... _that_.

“Have you seen Voldemort?”

Harry thanked God, Godric and Merlin that Ron wasn’t a Legilimens, or it would have been a really awkward business explaining him why he was dreaming of Ron’s little sister in a way that was anything but chaste.

“Er… not… not very well... I think... I think he was mad...”

Ron looked at him, his expression wary. “Mate... I know you don’t want to hear it, but... you need to close your mind...”

“Well, yeah, not that easy to do that while sleeping, isn’t it?”

Ron sighed. “May be you could take something to avoid dreaming?”

“I… yeah, I’ll think about it. Thanks, mate. Goodnight.”

“'Night” said Ron with a nod, letting the canopy shut.

Harry awaited for Ron to be back in his bed before grabbing his own wand from the bedside table and hiding inside the canopy yet again.

“_Muffliato_” he murmured, thinking that the Prince’s spell had never come so handy. He then put the wand back in place and he slid his hand beneath his pants, grabbing his half-hard boner.

He jerked off with quick, strong movements, and it was impossible not to imagine Ginny’s mouth around his shaft, the back of her throat brushing the tip of his cock.

_It’s your best mate’s sister_, he kept repeating himself with lingering guilt. _You shouldn’t think these thing of her. _

And yet, seeing her glued to Dean so tightly had aroused an aching want in Harry.

He moaned while his orgasm built up, and when he finally came in a messy explosion of pleasure, he daydreamed of Ginny swallowing his come.

After, Harry sagged in his mattress, worn out, thinking he really, really had to get used to soundproof his four-poster bed every night, knowing perfectly well that no matter how guilty he might feel, he definitely wasn’t going to take a potion to stop dreaming.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :D  
Feel free to drop any feedback, suggestion, correction about the story or the translation, opinion about headcanons and so on ^^  
You can also find me on [tumblr](https://isidar-mithrim.tumblr.com).
> 
> Ps any inconsistencies in the dream (the hair in a plait/spread, the different clothes, etc) is meant, as the fact that Ginny seems like a pro – after all, it’s the dream of a randy sixteen years old…


End file.
